A Simple Saturday
by katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: Chores, parenting, snuggling, and a few stolen minutes. Life may not always be exciting but that doesn't mean it's not good. RATED M for sexual content. One of my two contributions to the Fall 2016 More Stories to Save Lives (Mores2sl/ms2sl) charity collection.


_**RATED E**_ _: For excessive fluff and explicit content_

 _Many thanks to peetabreadgirl for beta reading this at the last minute...because that's when I wrote it. Without your support, I'd still be crying in the corner. Yes, even three months later. 3  
_

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Burrowing deeper beneath the covers, Katniss inhales and exhales. She's not ready to rise just yet. The warmth of their bed and the radiated heat soaking through the blankets lulls her into a state of bliss. A cool breeze dances in through the curtains, adding freshness to the air but also a nip of chill that makes her snuggle close to her husband.

A burst of laughter and a child's shout travel up from downstairs and she groans, elbowing the body beside her into motion. It's Saturday. Her turn to sleep in.

"Go see what they're up to downstairs, would you?" she asks and Peeta rolls over, draping his arm around her, hauling her into him. She wriggles until her feet are tangled with his and her face cradled in the hollow of his throat. Not ready to let him go just yet either.

"Then I can't keep you warm," he teases and she growls. He knows exactly how to get her to change her mind. "They can work it out."

Her pulse slows. Wrapped in Peeta's arms, everything else calms, becomes inconsequential. She could stay here all day if children and adult responsibilities didn't call. All falls quiet downstairs, and Katniss lets her hand stroke over his chest. Presses soft kisses to his throat.

"Stop that," he warns, but she smiles and keeps it up, letting one hand drift to his hip and pulling them tighter together. With a groan, Peeta grinds against her. "How much time do we have?"

"Probably not enough," she whispers, but doesn't protest when his hand slips beneath her shirt to palm her breast. He rolls her onto her back, his lips lavishing her neck and ears with heady kisses. Katniss lets her legs fall open, allowing him to settle in their embrace, his hips now flush with hers. They roll and grind. Kiss and caress.

"What do you need?" he asks in a strained whisper as she pushes down on the waist of his pants.

"You," she pants and grips his hard cock. "I need you."

Footsteps thunder down the hallway and Katniss groans as Peeta tugs his pants back up over his hips and flops back onto the mattress as their son barrels through the door, tailed closely by his sister.

"I told you not to bug Mom and Dad!" Willow protests as Wren turns to make a face at her.

"But I'm so hungry," he whines and throws himself on the bed dramatically. "What's for breakfast?"

"I'm sorry, Mom. He wouldn't listen," Willow says, crossing her arms and trying to look like an adult. Katniss wants to tell her to slow down. There will be plenty of time to be an adult and no need for an eleven year old to rush into it. Not like Katniss had to.

"Next time, knock," Peeta says, tweaking Wren's nose but rising from the bed and pulling on a t-shirt. "Let's go see about breakfast. Let Mom sleep in a little more, okay?"

Katniss burrows back under the covers once they leave the room, deep in discussion about pancakes versus waffles, Peeta expertly keeping the disagreement from dissolving into a petty sibling squabble. She sighs and closes her eyes, but her body is awake now. After listening to the laughter and muffled conversation from downstairs for a few minutes and letting her ardor cool a little, Katniss climbs from bed.

Hastily shoving her feet into a pair of fluffy socks that came off while she slept last night and donning a cozy sweater, she sneaks downstairs and watches her family for a moment while Wren pours batter into the waffle iron and Willow stirs the apples cooking on the stovetop. Peeta splits his attention between their two children, providing soft guidance where needed, encouragement and hair ruffles. Kisses on top of their heads. Even Willow allows the small signs of affection and smiles happily.

"How can I help?" Katniss asks, announcing her presence as Wren bites his tongue and carefully lowers the lid on the waffle iron.

"Hey," Peeta greets her with a quick kiss on her lips. "We haven't set the table yet."

She takes care of the chore, and when the waffles are done, complete with a cooked cinnamon apple topping, the family sits down to breakfast. Something's bothering her girl, though. Katniss can sense it in the quiet way she deflects her father's questions and focuses on her food.

Sharing a look with Peeta, Katniss claims this one. So when the meal is done, Peeta enlists Wren's help with the dishes and Katniss asks Willow to help her sort the laundry.

"Something on your mind?" she asks when the basket in the kids' bathroom is about halfway sorted. Willow tosses down a pair of Wren's chalk dusted pants with a wrinkled nose.

"No," she says with a slight huff. They continue sorting the clothes in silence and Katniss waits, knowing that Willow, like her, will only confide when she's good and ready to do so.

"Well, yes," Willow admits as they gather up the first load to carry downstairs to the laundry room. "It's just that, I was supposed to go with Sarah to the movies tonight, but then Janie invited her over for a sleepover, and I don't really like Janie's house. It smells funny. Sarah says I'm being ridiculous."

The words spill out in a near torrent and Katniss absorbs them, slowly nodding as she tries to order her thoughts. Maybe Peeta should have been the one to handle this, since Katniss' first instinct is to tell her daughter to slug Janie and Sarah on the nose for being brats. Peeta's always been the calm one, at least on the surface. But when something truly angers him, sometimes it steals her breath away.

She'll never forget the day Willow was called into the office because her bra strap on her first bra ever had slipped down and had been visible for a few minutes during class. When Willow was around, Peeta had been calm, cool, collected. But the second the door had shut in the principal's office, he'd let the man have a piece of his mind.

It had been ugly and glorious. That night, after they'd dealt with Willow's concerns and discussed the hypocrisy of the dress codes but also what Willow wanted to do in response to the unfair punishment of detention, they'd tucked their children in for the night. And Katniss had been consumed with a need so fierce, it'd left both her and Peeta breathless and spent, sprawled sweaty and aching on their sheets. She'd sucked him off twice that night and it had been a struggle to get up the next morning, but it'd been worth it.

Focusing on the problem at hand, Katniss asks Willow what exactly about the interaction upset her.

"Sarah promised," she says, obviously trying so hard not to whine. "We were gonna go see _Frozen_ again."

"Did you talk to Sarah about it?" Katniss asks as they dump the clothes into the washing machine.

"Well, no," Willow admits.

"Maybe she forgot. And I know that hurts, too. But it's not as bad as her changing plans on purpose, right? Do you think she meant to hurt you?"

"No," Willow says fiercely. "That's not what friends do."

"Let's get these started and you can call her, okay? Straighten it all out before it bothers you any more," Katniss says as she pours the detergent into the slot.

"Okay," Willow says, although she doesn't sound convinced. She pushes the buttons and as the machine whirs to life, Katniss swipes open her phone and hands it to Willow. Her daughter scampers off to her room and Katniss heads upstairs to change into work clothes. Their tree dropped a ton of leaves during a thunderstorm that week, and the yard needs to be raked.

"Crisis handled?"

Katniss is tugging her shirt down over her body when Peeta walks into the room and shucks his pajama nods and quickly tells him what was bothering Willow and how she dealt with it as they dress. She pauses between two sentences to admire him as he bends over to retrieve a hooded sweatshirt from the bottom dresser drawer. Licks her lips and keeps talking with Peeta none the wiser. Once they're both ready, they head down the hall to Wren's room, where Katniss helps him into his own sweatshirt.

"Can I jump in the piles?" he asks excitedly and pulls on his sneakers.

"I don't see why not," Katniss says and Peeta smiles.

"As long as you stick around after to finish the job."

"I will," Wren promises as he thunders down the stairs. As they pass Willow's door, Katniss pauses with her hand raised to knock, but her daughter's voice halts her. She can't hear the words. Instead of intruding, she tells Peeta to text her phone to tell Willow to join them outside once she's done talking with her friends.

It's back aching work, but the three of them banter and laugh. Wren squeals with joy as he leaps into the gathered piles of leaves then scurries to rake them back into a mountain while his parents work on the other sections of the yard.

About an hour into the chore, Willow walks out of the house, her black hair in a braid and her blue eyes shining in happiness. She picks up a rake and settles in to work next to her dad. Katniss barely overhears her telling Peeta that Janie can't afford a movie so that's why she suggested a sleepover, but she doesn't really like her house anyways with her new step-dad, and Sarah's mom isn't okay with sleepovers, so the three girls will be sleeping over here instead. Katniss nearly drops her rake, and scowls. Peeta handles it much better, saying that's fine, but maybe next time, Willow should talk to him or Katniss first before inviting friends over.

"Oh," Willow says, her shoulders deflating a little at the reprimand.

"We've got stuff to make pizzas, if that's what you guys wanna do," Peeta says to distract her. "And you could still watch a movie, right?"

"Yeah," Willow says, warming to the topic as the four continue their chores.

"Uh-oh," Wren says at one point, lifting his mud covered hand. "Found a puddle."

"Here, let's get you cleaned up," Peeta says, reaching down to grasp Wren under the arms to extract him from the massive pile of leaves.

Wren's hand slips and smears mud over Peeta's face. For a second, Peeta blinks and Willow giggles. Katniss smiles and shakes her head, but as she shifts one of the bags full of leaves onto the curb, a broad, wet hand spreads goop all down her neck.

"Mama's a mud monster!" Wren shrieks and with a scowl, Katniss chases after her husband, bent on retribution. Peeta yells for help and Willow flings leaves at Katniss. A few stick to her and some to Peeta.

Katniss isn't sure how it happens, but their afternoon of chores dissolves into laughter and flying leaves, smeared mud, and at one point, she grabs the hose with Wren, dousing both Peeta and a squealing Willow. Peeta holds his hands in front of his face, sputtering against the stream as he charges and wraps his arms around Katniss, lifting her off her feet and playfully yelling for her to yield.

"Never!" Wren shouts, dropping the hose and attaching himself to Peeta's leg. Willow seizes the chance and picks up the hose. Within minutes, they're all soaked, with chattering teeth and leaves sticking to odd places. Willow's jeans. Peeta's cheek. Wren's hair. Katniss' neck.

She laughs, bursting with joy as Peeta breathlessly begs for a ceasefire and suggests hot chocolate and chicken noodle soup for lunch. The children cheer and move quickly to help put away the yard tools. There's still a fair amount of leaves scattered about the yard, and four bags on the curb waiting for pickup on Monday, but Katniss figures they can finish the chore tomorrow. Besides, the leaves left on the ground are now wet, and raking wet leaves is a frustrating and pointless task.

Herding them into the garage, Katniss shuts the door and orders the kids to take off their wet clothes and march straight to the shower, handing them each a towel to dry and stay a little warm. While they clean themselves, she and Peeta get the lunch and hot cocoa ready.

"C'mere," he murmurs at one point, leaning over to pluck a leaf from her collar and nuzzling a kiss over the sensitive skin of her neck. She shivers and wishes they weren't having guests tonight. She's not sure she can be entirely quiet, and the smile he's giving her isn't helping her clothes, panties in particular, dry any faster.

Once they have the kids settled at the table, with their food, Katniss and Peeta remain in the kitchen to eat, still in their wet and muddied clothes. They still have some cleaning to do in the house, but will need showers and to change first.

Once she's done eating, Katniss heads to the laundry room, carefully moving the clean clothes to the dryer and tossing in her children's soiled work clothes. As she peels her sweatshirt over her head, warm hands caress over her sides and lips suckle her neck. She gasps and drops her shirt into the machine. The door to the room shuts behind her and she can't help it, she pushes her hips back into Peeta's, smiling arrogantly at his half-hard state.

Some days, she scowls at the stretch marks and pouch of loose skin left on her abdomen from carrying their children. But on days like this, with Peeta growing harder by the second and his hands desperately trying to consume every inch of her flesh, she knows that he, at least, still finds her attractive. And her response to him, with the added weight around his middle that wasn't there when they were twenty, convinces her it's possible to grow old and grizzled with someone and still desire them more than anyone else.

"What are Wren and Willow doing?" she asks breathlessly as his hands shove her sports bra up just enough so he can tweak her nipples.

"Coloring and reading," he tells her. "They'll be busy for at least a few minutes. Do you know how hard it was to leave you in bed this morning?"

"I have an idea," she teases as she reaches back to pop the button on his jeans and slides her hand inside to grip him. His skin is cold and clammy, but as he kisses her and she pumps him, he grows hot and hard.

"Were you wet for me this morning?" he murmurs, one hand sliding down her abdomen to loosen her jeans. "Are you wet for me now?"

She wants to suggest he find out, but she gasps as his hand shoves inside her panties and cups her. He groans and his hips buck into her. His fingers draw through her folds and spread the arousal already gathered, draw forth more.

Hands shove and fling. Random leaves flutter to the floor as clothes are stripped and tossed into the open washing machine. When they're down to their bare skin, Katniss' hands shake as she gets the machine started, mainly for the extra noise to cover what she plans on doing with Peeta.

He switches their positions, leaning back against the dryer and bracing his feet on the door to keep it shut. The narrow space grows humid and hot with the heat of the dryer and their warming bodies as she straddles him, gripping his cock and kissing him frantically, sinking onto him, too impatient for any more foreplay. She whimpers a little at the burn. She wasn't quite aroused enough to push this fast, but Peeta's enraptured moans shudder through her.

He caresses her face, brushing back hair and whispering to her, heated words that help as she swivels her hips and the vibrations of the dryer travel straight to her clit through his body.

"Oh," she moans, her head dropping back. Peeta cradles her neck in one hand and laves her neck down to her breasts with sucking kisses and swipes of his tongue. "Peeta."

"Fuck, I love hearing you moan my name," he whispers as he circles one nipple with his tongue and then sucks it into his mouth, teeth scraping slightly over the pebbled surface. "Want you to moan it while you come."

Her hips thrust involuntarily in response to the jolt caused by his mouth as he sucks again, harder this time, before switching to the other breast. By the time he lifts his head and looks into her eyes, she's jerking her hips over him in a fast and hard ride. Her juices dripping between them. His hands skim over her ribs, her back, down to her ass, warming her as he goes. Lips on her neck up to her ear where he whispers to her.

"Katniss, honey, you're the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen or touched or known. Come for me. Fucking come all over me. I know you wanna. I can feel you fluttering, and fuck, you're getting wetter."

She whimpers and focuses on the stroke of him inside her, the quivering of his body beneath her clit as she ascends on the feelings. She clenches and bites her lip to contain the moans, hoping that the dryer and washer and closed door are enough to muffle the sounds that escape despite her efforts. Peeta's fingers clench into her ass as he groans, and she knows he's getting close.

"Fuck, Katniss, I'm begging you to come for me," he whispers and sucks on her neck, her collarbone, driving her hips over him and gasping and laughing in relief as she clamps down on his cock, her ragged moan of his name escaping and the rest of her ecstatic words silenced by the hand he uses to cover her mouth. His back arches. He throws his head back and as her body covers his with her release, she licks up his throat, tasting the quiet moan rumbling inside him. His hips buck beneath her as he holds her hips so he can slam into her. She grips his shoulders to hang on as he shudders and pulses inside her.

They stay there with the rumble of the dryer and whoosh of the washing machine, her head resting on his shoulders, heaving as he tries to catch his breath, letting the euphoria slowly ebb. She licks up a few drops of sweat from his collarbone and he shudders again.

When he's somewhat recovered, he caresses her cheek and shifts their heads to kiss her, long and languid. Slow tangling of tongues that send fluttering to her core anew. She doubts that they have time for a second round, though.

"You're so beautiful when you fly apart, it makes me weak in the knees," he whispers against her lips and she blushes furiously. They've been married close to fifteen years now, and he still manages to say things like this that overwhelm her with the force of his undying love.

"We should go get cleaned up," she whispers back instead and Peeta kisses her one more time before helping her stand. His legs shake as he pushes himself off the dryer, and Katniss searches, finally finding a couple towels that they wrap around their bodies before they sneak through the house.

A quick glance reveals their children exactly where Peeta says he left them. Wren coloring at the table, his tongue poking between his lips in concentration. Willow lounging on the couch reading a book, her foot tapping in the air to the music playing over her earbuds.

With suppressed giggles, they head upstairs to shower and dress. Guests or not, as Katniss works with Willow to get the supplies ready for pizza making, her eyes keep straying to Peeta, wondering if they'll have the chance and the energy for a more leisurely session tonight. She thinks she'd like that silver tongue of his to be silent but occupied.

As Wren settles in his room with puzzles and Willow's guests start to arrive, Peeta steals a moment to pinch Katniss' ass and whisper to her that he's not done making her come for the day, if she's up for it and promises not to be too loud. It sounds like a challenge, and she scowls playfully at his knowing grin. He knows she's never been able to back down from a challenge.

So while the girls are watching their movie, Katniss corners him in a dark part of the hallway and palms him through his jeans until he starts to harden and hisses her name in warning.

"What?" she whispers indignantly before she kisses him, swallowing his protests about _the kids interrupting,_ and not mentioning that he didn't seem to worried about that in the laundry room earlier today. The kiss builds in heat and intensity.

Until Wren shouts from somewhere downstairs.

"Dad! I need some help with this!"

They separate with a sigh, but Peeta goes happily to help their son, tossing one last smile and an _I love you_ over his shoulder at her. Warmth floods her body to the tips of her fingertips. Love isn't a word she throws around lightly or very often, but she knows she'll whisper the words later tonight. First to their children, and then to him. The perfect ending to a simple day.


End file.
